"Jed, can you speak? Keep trying."

It was very evident that he was. He was trying so hard that his face was flushed. Abbey could tell that he was very frustrated and very scared.

"Okay, hon, calm down. There could be any explanation for this. Let me go get the doctors and let them determine what has happened. Do you understand me?"

Jed nodded in agreement.

Abbey tried to swallow her rising concern. She had to keep her face neutral while her mind and her heart were swirling with fear.

She left and went to find Dr. Howard. She spotted Dr. Taylor and tried not to run.

"He's awake."

"That's great." A smile broke across the doctor's face.

"But he can't speak. There's no sound coming from his throat."

Dr. Taylor quickly became serious. "No sound?" even as he started walking toward the President's room.

"What has happened?" Abbey was once again full of questions that didn't have any easy answers.

Jed's POV:

'I'm awake. I hear. I understand. But there's no sound. No matter how hard I try there is no sound. No way of telling Abbey how much I love her. No way to tell others how much I care about them. No way to tell my staff what needs to be done. No way to express my wishes to the country. No sound. That's frightening. No way to hear yourself. To hear the way you command others. To share ideas, hopes, and promises. To ask others to carry out your wishes. To express the joy of being alive. To tell my daughters they need to behave. How long will this last? Forever? No. It can't. How can God be that mad at me? How can I ask Him? How I can tell my grandchildren all I need to share with them? I'm awake. I hear. I understand. But there's no sound.'

Abbey's POV:

'He's awake. He hears. He understands. But there's no sound. I can't believe this is happening. He survived. He has always been a survivor. He has a voice that has always brought emotion to me. A voice that exudes love. A voice that commands. A voice that can rise in anger or rise in passion. A voice that that can lower in anger or lower in passion. A whisper that excites me. A whisper that frightens me. A whisper that controls a room better than any voice ever could. A whisper that can bring laughter to his daughters or signal danger. He's awake. He hears. He understands. But there's no sound.'